


Bei Regen

by kopfkino



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Scene, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7415476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopfkino/pseuds/kopfkino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>apparently my teams losing from major tournaments incites me to write :-) *hides*</p>
    </blockquote>





	Bei Regen

**Author's Note:**

> apparently my teams losing from major tournaments incites me to write :-) *hides*

"That wasn't too bad." Thomas points out, pushing his fingers softly against the foggy window. From the drivers seat, Miro smiles. "You're just saying that because you were able to speak German with the bartender."

"Well, I _had_ to talk to someone while you toasted with all your Italian buddies." He defends himself. It's the first time Thomas agrees to join him at a Lazio dinner/party and he's made it back in one piece. 

"I'm glad you came." 

Thomas smiles mostly to himself, because he's even gladder Miroslav asked him in the first place. Ever since the striker has left Munich, Thomas can't help but miss him terribly. International breaks aren't close to being enough. The rain outside is starting to pick up, as the number of umbrellas on the streets before them increases.  

He occasionally glances to Miro, who doesn't seem to notice, as usual. He's never been sure if he acknowledges them and just pretends to miss the gazing. Either way, it's never stopped Thomas. 

He lives a bit on the outskirts of Rome, on a small Villa. It helps him relax away from the media and reporters. The sea isn't far for him to go fishing too, which is fairly important. Thomas imagines himself living without this horses, and wonders if that's why he's so tied to Bayern, even so, he couldn't imagine life without Miro when he lived there and here they were. The car stops, and Thomas looks out the window, noticing they haven't arrived yet. 

"Miro?" 

He tries to restart the car, but the motor doesn't agree. It struggles and it goes back to a quiet silence between them. There's only the sound of muffled drops falling on the car above them. 

"Do you- um-"  Thomas mildly starts before Miro gives it another go, but there's no use. "Are we far?" 

Miroslav sighs. He turns to the sides, the rain is so dense, Thomas wonders if Miro can even recognise a thing. "About 10 minutes." 

"Want me to push the car?"

"It's pouring rain outside, you'll get soaked." 

Thomas lets out a muffled laugh, to which he catches Miro's lips twitching. He shakes his head, not hiding the smile. "No, I'll try to push it, you try to get it started." 

Sounds like it's not open for discussion as he puts his jacket on and opens the door before Thomas can even protest. He jumps to the drivers seat and turns the key in. The motor tries, but it's to no avail, and fails again. 

"It's not working!" He tries, but the rain is louder. It's not long before Miro returns to the car, dripping with water. He brushes his fingers through his hair and sniffs. Thomas notices how brighter his eyes look when his hair is wet. Actually, he knows it probably isn't the time to realise how attractive Miro is when he's completely soaked.  

"I think we need to call the crane." The striker brings him back from his thoughts. 

He agrees, and Miro takes out his phone. The screen doesn't change, and Thomas remembers he left his own phone at home, considering no one important would call him while being at Lazio's dinner party. 

"It wont turn on." 

Thomas grabs it, and clicks on the on/off button. The no battery sign shows up instead, and he can't help but laugh. "When's the last time you charged it?"

"Uh, well you're here, I forgot and.." Thomas can't help but shake his head. 

The only solution is to find a phone as soon as they can. They end up running to the closest convenience shop they can find. It sounds far more romantic than it is, as they haven't even reached the back of the car before his own clothes are soaking wet as well. The door is locked, but the light is on, meaning there's at least one employee working.

Miro lets out something about how thankful he is these shops work 24h, or they'd be lost on the road almost past midnight. There's a small space between the door and the rain covered by a roof, and Miro is under it. Thomas, however, is still standing under the drops and Miro doesn't take too long to notice. 

"Oh, hey." He instinctively pulls Thomas closer and their bodies are against each other. He knows he should think about the entire situation they're in, but having Miro's neck at this distance, with water running down is impossible to resist. He hides his face in it, and without a second thought pushes his lips softly against the wet skin. It gets the immediate reaction he's expecting when Miro quakes in surprise, clearly not expecting it. He giggles and repeats the action, this time even sucking a bit. 

"Thom--" Miro tries, but doesn't finish, as Thomas' hands have moved to his sides, stroking him gently. Miro's body unwillingly shakes under his touch, and he's about to give him a small peck on the lips when he's stopped by Miro's hands. They move to his chest and push him away gently, rain falling on his head again. He turns to the guy who Thomas hadn't noticed was on the other side of the door. (He blames Miro's neck.)

Miro calls the crane with Italian words that Thomas doesn't understand and they tell him it'll be there in an hour. For Italians it translates to roughly two hours and a half, according to Miro. They decide to wait in the car. Thomas guesses it's mostly because Miro feels embarrassed of what the guy at the convenience store saw. His hair is finally staring to dry a bit, but he can't really say the same for his shirt and pants. 

"Well, it could have been worse." He starts. 

"How?" Miro asks, sceptical. 

His head turns to Miro. There's a soft yellow tone on his skin from the lights outside, it's easy to get caught up between the rain and his eyes. He wonders how Miro doesn't realise how handsome he is, and his mind eventually goes back to their moment outside the store. A smile finds his lips and he instinctively moves over the seats, dropping in Miro's lap. 

"You could have been stuck here without me..." He catches Miro's tiny smile that never fails to drive him crazy. He leans down, pausing right when their lips are barely touching, breathing each other's air. "And that would have been really boring."

Miro doesn't reply, instead he pushes his body up a bit and seals their lips together. It's soft and tender, just like most of their kisses are. He opens his mouth, allowing Thomas's tongue to wander inside it. Miro raises his arms to his shoulders and pulls him down gently, deepening the kiss. 

He moves slowly to his neck, lazily leaving soft kisses across it down to his collarbone. His hands fall to his sides and slide up under the jacket. He shifts a bit and Miro opens his legs so he can rest more comfortably. There's contact and Thomas discovers he's half-hard already.

Miro lets out a quiet moan, throwing his head back into the seat as Thomas' hand works against his cock. His fingers stroke the tip of it warmly as the wet texture from his jeans helps him. It's not long before Miro's arms fold around his neck pulling him down smacking their lips together. The kiss is deep, and it distracts Thomas for a moment. Miro takes advantage of it and grips his shirt, pulling it over his head. 

"Ah-" Thomas lets out when the chill hits his skin, though he's actually burning inside. "You're going to catch a cold if you stay in those clothes, Opa."

Miro raises an eyebrow, but gives in as Thomas gets rid of his wet jacket first, and then his surprisingly dry shirt. He leans over and pulls the seat's lever down, pushing his body against Miro's. 

His hands pin Miro's wrists above his head. He closes the gap between them again, this time with more determination, finding his bottom lip and sucking gently on it. He doesn't even mean to start rocking his hips against Miro's, creating the so long desired friction between them. Miro bites back another moan, to which Thomas seems compelled to splay his hands across his body. He sinks to his knees and in a second his jeans are unzipped and lowered. He grabs his shaft stroking it gently with his hand, each time a bit slower, making Miro tremble softly under him. After a couple of bobs up and down, Thomas' tongue finds the tip, leaving saliva around it. 

"Thomas-" He stutters, "Pleas-" 

Instinctively, he leaves a small kiss on the top, making eye contact with him, before taking him entirely in his mouth. He presses his tongue against the side and wraps his lips around it. One hand is helping him stroke it slowly, as his lips do the rest. He feels Miro's hand on his hair, pulling it. It's almost encouraging him to continue. It's not long before his thighs are trembling, and Thomas pulls up, returning to Miro's face.

He kisses the little drops of pre-cum on his satisfied smirk before Thomas feels his own pants unzip now. He shakes his head. "You first," He mumbles, as Miro starts stroking him. He tries to control it, but Miro's movement around his shaft is sending shock waves across his body. He even manages to move him to the side, against the door. His other hand is busy massaging his thighs heatedly. He rubs the head with his thumb as Thomas groans against him. 

"Fuck, Miro," He purrs, closer to his ear than intended. It's enough for Miro to kiss his collarbone in a infuriating yet calm way that makes Thomas melt. His hands try to find his cock again, but the overwhelming heat from his lower stomach doesn't help. It's only so much until he's ready to let himself go. Miro speeds up, and his muscles tense and twitch, they shudder and convulse, until he reaches his climax. "Mir- Mi-" 

He collapses against Miro's shoulder, shuddering as he feels Miro let himself go as well. They stay like that for a moment, feeling relaxed, their limbs tangled together in the small space the car has to offer. He notices Miro is shivering, and wonders for a moment if the cool air is to blame. He gets on his elbow and finds the jacket that he threw on the back seat and places it nicely on top of him, as if it were a blanket. 

Miro lifts his arm, inviting Thomas under the jacket, and he obeys. "I'm reaaaally glad Italians aren't as punctual as Germans." Thomas lets out, buring his head into Miro's neck, who simply laughs. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ok this is the first time i write something... this.. level of smutty :-) .. i hope i did alright


End file.
